Even though a night had passed and much of the scent had faded, the old monk, keen-nosed as a hound, could tell something was off.
The old monk gazed at Sean Knight without speaking, seemed to be waiting for a reply from him.
Before Sean could say anything, Vicky Wilson took the chance to ask:
"Why isn't it magical anymore? Is it because it was offended last night?"
"Of course not. That was a minor event, not worth its wrath." The old monk turned to Sean, his voice becoming stern:
"Mr. Knight, aren't you going to clarify this?"
"Clarify what?" Sean pretended to be confused, "I have no idea what you mean, master. As for the Ox-head God's powers, didn't we dissect that yesterday? If it's no longer reacting, isn't it probably tired of wasting its power on undeserving people?"
At this, Master Floyd turned pale.
Green with rage, in fact!
Wasn't Sean indirectly mocking him?
